Buddy System
by derpette-Waffle
Summary: Five-year-old Dan has a hero named Phil; he's too young to know that heroes aren't always as strong as they seem.
1. Chapter 1

"Give it back!" little Dan shouted as he ran between the two bullies, an unwelcome game of monkey-in-the-middle trying to get his Winnie the Pooh plush back. He'd run at one boy, who would toss the stuffed toy to his friend just before Dan could grab it. These were Big Boys who'd approached Dan on the playground, where he'd been having fun, minding his own business on the swings with Pooh Bear in his lap. They'd grabbed the toy –so much more than a toy to the small child now crying at the idea of not getting it back. Tears and snot were running down his face as he shouted brokenly at the laughing older boys to give his Pooh Bear back.

"If you want it so badly then take it from us, Danny boy!" This boy Dan had seen at the school when he'd gone in for his introduction, but he was at least in year three –Dan was going into year one soon. Both boys were much bigger than Dan was and when they held Pooh up in the air, he could jump as high as he could and still not reach it.

"Please give it back!" His mummy had taught him that he's much more likely to get what he wants if he says please, but that teaching failed him here. The bullies kept on roaring with laughter as Dan fell to his scabby knees on the wood chips, sobbing turning to blubbering as he started to accept his fate of never getting his special toy back.

The boys high-fived right over him, a final insult to injury, and they were about to leave when something hit one of them in the shoulder. Startled, they both looked down to see it was a shoe, a small trainer with the flashy lights on the back, lit up where they lay on the ground.

"Hey!"

Dan lifted his head up to see that standing between him and the bullies was another boy, bigger than Dan was but smaller than the other two were. He had only one shoe, the other between the Big Boys like he'd thrown it at them. Dan watched from the ground, curious but scared of what might happen.

"Give him back his teddy and leave him alone!" the boy shouted at the bullies.

"Make us!" one shouted, the other waving the toy about tauntingly. The unknown child bent over and grabbed up a handful of wood chips and threw it at them. And he did it again and again, throwing more and harder until the bullies had no choice but to drop the toy and run.

Dan was done crying by now, consumed in watching this one kid fight off two bigger kids. He watched, mesmerized as this hero boy picked up Pooh Bear, brushed dirt off of it, and turned back to bring it to Dan. The smaller boy just stared up at him as he knelt down beside him, smiling and handing him his stuffed toy.

"Hi, I'm Phil."

Dan sat up quickly and grabbed his Pooh Bear, hugging it tightly. He looked back to Phil as he sat on the ground next to him. Shy, Dan buried his face into Pooh's head, mumbling a quiet thank you.

"Well, what's your name?" Phil was picking at a stray thread on his trousers. He kept smiling at Dan, hoping he would answer and maybe they could be friends.

"… Dan." Dan wasn't used to talking to other kids, just playing by himself with his toys, so this was weird to him and he wasn't sure if he liked it. But this boy was the kid to get him his Pooh Bear back, so maybe he could talk to him a little to be nice. "I'm…" He counted on his fingers and held up one hand. "Five."

Phil grinned brightly at him, and it made Dan a bit more comfortable. "I'm seven." He held up the wrong number of fingers and it made Dan giggle, hugging Pooh tighter. "I've never seen you around here before."

"I just moved into a new house with my mummy and daddy. We had to move out of our old house so now we're living with my grandma." He pointed to the middle-aged woman reading on a park bench not too far away. "That's her. She took me here to play while Mummy and Daddy are unpacking all our stuff. We brought a lot of boxes with us." He loosened his grip on the stuffed toy in his lap. "Is your mummy here with you?"

Phil shifted back and forth, looking down at his lap with guilt in his eyes. "No, she doesn't know I'm here. Sometimes when my mummy and daddy aren't looking my brother will sneak me down to the park to play. We'll be back by the time they notice we're gone. He's over there on the jungle gym."

Dan looked, but there were a lot of kids over there and he couldn't pick out which one it was. He shrugged. "Do you go to that school down the street?"

"Yeah, you're gonna love it! Everyone's really nice to each other, especially the new kids. You'll have a great time." He patted Dan on the back a little harder than Dan had anticipated. "Do you wanna come over to my house after school tomorrow?"

Dan considered it cautiously for a moment. He was still too new to know where anything was except for the school and now the playground, and he rarely went over his few friends' houses before he moved, but this boy had saved Pooh Bear. He held the toy out in front of him. "What do you think, Pooh? Should I go over Phil's house tomorrow after school?"

There was a pause, and Dan unconsciously made the thing nod its head. He smiled brightly and Phil was giggling. "I guess that's a yes!" He started giggling with the older boy, until the laughter died down and they sat in silence for a long moment.

"You wanna go build a castle?" Phil asked, hopping to his feet and reaching his hand out for Dan to take it. Dan hugged his toy tightly before taking a chance and grabbing onto Phil's hand. The boy smiled and pulled him to the sand pit.

They built a pretty simple structure in the sand, but they made up for the mediocrity with a never ending tale of the kings and queens and princes and dragons and knights that lived in and around the castle. Dan even played the part of the dragon, and got to tackle the knight, Sir Philip, into the sand. They knocked over the castle in the process, but didn't mind as they just wrestled around for a bit, laughing and giggling at their own silly antics.

Soon enough –too soon for the boys- Dan's grandmother came over and told him it was time to go home. Dan wanted to stay a little longer, but Phil had to go home, too. "Remember, I'll see you after school tomorrow!" he reminded the younger boy, crossing his heart in a promise.

Dan smiled and nodded, said goodbye to his new friend and got up to walk with his grandma over to the car. He gave one last look back to see Phil waving and he smiled and waved back as the car drove off.

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_**A/N: Reviews = quicker updates!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Dan was happy to learn that Phil had been right about the teachers and students and everyone else at the school. His first day at this new school was lots of fun because everybody was very nice and welcoming, something he didn't remember from his old school. Dan spent most of the day coloring and practicing penmanship with the rest of his class, but his mind kept wandering back to what was gonna happen after school was dismissed, when he was going over to Phil's house. Dan had brought a few of his toys in his backpack that they could maybe play with later. Dan really just wanted class to end so he could go and have fun with his new friend.

The final bell rang and Dan hopped up, grabbing his bag out of his cubby and almost forgetting his folder and crayons as he ran out the door and into a hallway already filling up with much bigger children. Dan was honestly scared; he was surrounded by Big Kids and he was still too new to the school to know which way it was to the front door. He didn't realize that it was probably the direction all these kids were heading in as the school day ended, too frightened by the taller and unfamiliar figures all around him. He was about to run back into the classroom when he felt someone grab his wrist.

"I got you, Danny!" Phil's voice was a big relief to hear. Dan pulled his wrist away and quickly moved that hand to grab onto the other boy's arm, maybe a little too tightly. His other hand gripped onto his backpack strap. Phil led him to a clear area outside the crowd, a little hollow near the water fountain. He pulled his arm out of the younger boy's grip to hug him quickly, trying to calm him down after the scary time in the crowd of bigger kids, and turned his back, holding his arms out behind him. "Hop on!" he insisted enthusiastically.

Dan stared wide-eyed for a moment. Phil wasn't much bigger than he was, and probably couldn't carry him on his back. But Phil seemed insistent that he give him a piggyback ride, so Dan wrapped his arms around his friends neck and hopped up. Phil hooked his hand under Dan's legs and held him up pretty well. Dan buried his face into Phil's neck as Phil carried him through the crowd to the door, talking all the while.

"My daddy used to carry me like this when I was littler, when there were a lot of adults around and I got scared. It's your first day and you don't know where things are yet, but I'll show you. Tomorrow we'll stay after class and I'll show you around, okay?"

Dan didn't feel like talking, just nodding his head and holding tighter around Phil's neck as they started to move awkwardly down some stairs. The front entrance wasn't far.

"When we get outside we can race to my house. It's right down the street. Where do you live, Danny?"

No one ever called him Danny; Dan didn't really like it, even from his parents, but for some reason it felt right when Phil said it. He probably wouldn't say anything against it if he kept calling him that. "I live around the corner and up the big hill. The house is kinda small for all of us to live in, and Sparky ran away the other day –I don't think he likes it here very much."

"Do you like it here?"

Dan didn't have to think much about his answer before he nodded firmly. "The school is nice and the people are nice and I've already made a friend." He smiled and hugged Phil tightly from his back. Phil smiled back and propped Dan up higher.

They finally made it outside, which would've been a bit more pleasant if it wasn't raining. Phil set Dan back on the ground and broke into a run. "Wait for me!" Dan shouted, laughing as he ran off after him.

The house wasn't terribly close, but neither boy noticed the distance as they raced down the pavement, maneuvering through passersby and splashing into puddles. They were soaked to the bone by the time they got to a large house at the end of the road. "Home sweet home!" Phil shouted over his shoulder as he reached the front door before Dan, who was quite a ways behind him but still in sight. Dan pattered quickly up to the door, shivering in the cold wetness. Phil reached out and ruffled his hair, turning the doorknob slowly. "We're gonna have to take our shoes off the second we get in the house so we don't track water everywhere. My mummy and daddy are at work but my cousin watches me after school, and she's got eyes in the back of her head and tells my mum everything I do wrong." He frowned bitterly and opened the door, coaxing Dan to follow him inside. Dan obliged silently.

"Shh!" Phil hissed as they got a few steps into the hall. Dan jumped back a bit, and Phil softened his tone accordingly. "Macy's watching TV in the lounge so we need to very quietly sneak into the closet to get towels and dry off, and then we can go out to the treehouse."

Dan started a bit. "You have a treehouse?" he asked as quietly as possible so Phil wouldn't hush him again.

"Yeah, it's awesome!" he whispered back. Dan was about to ask about it more, but Phil was preparing himself to sneak across the wide entrance to the lounge. He tiptoed quietly but swiftly, socks almost sliding on the wood floor. He succeeded and cheered for himself silently, and Dan gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Phil grabbed two towels out of the nearby linen closet and gestured for Dan to join him on the other side of the entrance. Dan stepped fearfully over to his friend, worried he'd catch the attention of the babysitter, but he made it across without drawing any notice. Phil smiled proudly at him and draped a Pikachu towel around Dan's shoulders. Phil had his own Pokemon group towel and put it over his head like a veil.

Phil started to silently walk into and through the kitchen, and Dan followed behind him, holding the towel on his shoulders. Phil pulled the sliding door open and led Dan out onto the covered back porch, closing it behind them. "My treehouse is in that tree over there, and we're gonna have to go through the rain, so put the towel over your head and we'll run!"

Dan nodded and moved the towel over his hair. Phil opened a creaky door and counted down. "Three… two… one, run!" He raced out the door and Dan ran behind him, following him over to a tall tree. Phil climbed expertly up the rungs of the ladder nailed into the trunk. Dan was more timid and frightened, but he followed up despite the wet ladder and falling rain and the sheer height.

Phil poked his head out of the playhouse. "Come on, Danny, you can do it!" When Dan was up high enough, he reached out his hand for his friend to grab it; Dan took it and held on tightly, gratefully letting Phil pull him up and into the treehouse.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan sat in the corner of the treehouse, next to Phil as the older boy pulled a bag of sweets out of his backpack. He popped the bag open and handed Dan a small chocolate, which the younger took with a quiet "thank you." Dan shivered a bit; it was still raining, of course, though the wooden ceiling kept them from getting any wetter. His clothes were soaked through and the thin towel wasn't doing much to get him dry. He was afraid he was going to catch cold but he was here now and wanted to be with his friend. He scooted closer to Phil, trying to share his body heat.

"So what was it like where you lived before?" Phil asked through a mouthful of chocolate. Dan giggled as some dribbled down to his chin. Dan hadn't yet touched his sweets.

"It was a big city; a lot bigger than it is here. We lived on the… eighth floor of a really tall building, and our house was really tiny. And I'm gonna tell you a secret-" he leaned in close to whisper, "we weren't allowed to have a dog there but we did anyway, and the guy in charge never knew because Sparky doesn't bark. He's a mute doggy."

Phil nodded, giggling and swallowing his chocolate. "I have three hamsters in my room. They're secret hamsters. My mummy and daddy didn't want me to have a pet, but I saved up my allowance to buy one and named him Henry, but then Henry had babies so I needed to rename him –her- Henrietta. I named the babies Bull and Squeaky, and keep them in shoeboxes. Squeaky has to stay in a separate one though, because her mummy and brother are really mean to her…" He scrunched his nose. "I think they tried to eat her. They're really mean and they bite me but I love them. They're my friends."

Dan just stared for a moment, taking it all in. He laughed. "Silly, how are they your friends if they're mean?"

"Well, they're mean but I still love them! Anyway, they're upstairs in my closet. Maybe I'll introduce you one day, but you can't really hold them because they bite, and then you drop them and they get away. I'm not allowed to have my room closed, and I can't risk them running into my parents' room and hiding in their shoes."

Dan nodded. "Sparky eats shoes. He chewed up my trainers a whole lot." He motioned down to his shoes, torn up all over by his dog. They weren't very suited for wearing, and his socks were wet to his feet from the puddles they'd run through on the way to the house.

Phil examined them and frowned. "I have some old trainers that you can have! I just outgrew them so I can give them to you. Then your mummy doesn't have to buy you new ones until Sparky chews up those ones!" He smiled, giggling again. Dan gratefully accepted the offer and mumbled that he could get them when they go inside. "Do you wanna see if you can stay for dinner tonight? We're have spaghetti!"

"I'd love to but my mummy said I have to be home by dinner because my uncle's coming over and he wants to see how big I've gotten since he last saw me. I don't like him much; he smells like smoke all the time and he squeezes too tight when he hugs me." Dan frowned and shuddered at the thought. He blinked and started to fall sideways against his friend, head on his shoulder. "Um, I don't think I ever really thanked you for getting Pooh Bear back from those Big Boys. Not many kids would face up to bullies for a stranger and you did. Do you have a cape?"

Phil tilted his head. "A cape?"

"Yeah. Superheroes wear capes, don't they?"

Phil laughed, blushing. "I'm not a superhero, Danny!" He hugged the younger boy and kissed his cheek. "But you're welcome! I'm glad I was able to help you get your teddy back, and I'm glad we're friends."

Dan's eyes went wide and his cheeks went bright red. He knew what kisses meant: his daddy kissed his mummy and his grandma kissed his grandpa, and he'd once seen his cousin and his girlfriend kissing each other. Kisses meant you liked someone, and so Phil liked Dan the way his mummy and daddy liked each other. Dan was pretty sure he enjoyed that idea. "Um… can you do that again?"

Phil smiled and left another sweet and chocolaty kiss on Dan's cheek, leaving a smudge this time. "Happy?"

"Y-Yeah." Dan was still blushing. Did Phil have a crush on him? Dan knew about crushes, too, but no one had ever had a crush on him before… especially not a big kid, and certainly not another boy.

He looked to Phil, who seemed completely unfazed by the idea, if he was even thinking the same thing. Dan pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his beet red face into them. He felt a pair of arms wrap around him loosely. "It's okay, Danny, I won't do it again." He sounded sad, and Dan pulled away to tell him that he shouldn't be, but Phil crossed over his heart. "I promise."

Dan nodded and accepted it. Phil must not really like him like that, but that was okay –they could just be best friends, forever.

"Phil, I wanna make a pact." Dan moved into a kneeling position in front of the older boy, who gave him his full and curious attention. "I saw this in a film once…" He picked a small splinter of wood off the floor of the treehouse and hesitantly pricked his finger with it.

"Danny-!" Phil shouted, worried as a drop of blood beaded on Dan's fingertip. "You're bleeding… Why would you do that?"

"It's part of the pact." He handed the splinter to Phil, who timidly did the same to one of his one fingers. He flinched and instinctively sucked on it to make it hurt less, and Dan coaxed the finger from his mouth and carefully squeezed out a drop of blood. "This is a promise made in blood, to be the very best of friends from now until the day we're old and wrinkly and die." He swallowed. "Do you accept?"

Phil nodded eagerly, finger still stinging. Dan nodded and put the prick in his finger over Phil's squeezing them together a bit painfully, letting the drops of blood mix.

Once the slight pain died down, Dan smiled brightly, and Phil's own smile mirrored it. Dan hugged him. "Friends forever," he promised.

"Friends forever and ever."

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_**A/N: That story about the hamsters actually happened to me, only they weren't a secret from my parents or kept in shoeboxes. Reviews = quicker updates!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**... Four Years Later ...**

* * *

It was an all too familiar situation. Dan was trying to eat his bagged lunch in peace when the douchenozzles surrounded him, struggling to ignore their taunting over anything they could possibly use as ammunition –most particularly, his tattered discount wardrobe. He reminded himself that it wasn't his fault his family couldn't afford new clothes right now, and it was only something spoiled snobs like these kids would pick at like this. They called him poor –which he wasn't, at least not especially. They were wrong, no deep malice in their cruelty, they were just bored teenagers. And Dan wasn't one for fighting.

He looked up from his Ziploc bag to see Phil sitting across from him like always, completely still and tensed as he glared at the boys bothering his best friend. Dan wanted to tell him to just ignore him like he was trying so hard to, but speaking at all would just heighten the bullies' enthusiasm. They could find something ludicrous wrong with anything he had to say, and use the imaginary fault as further bait.

There was a pile of small rocks in the corner of the schoolyard where they were eating their lunches, and Dan shuddered. He knew that the minute any of these boys laid a finger on him, Phil wouldn't hesitate to run over and grab one up to throw at them. The boy didn't like confrontation and was usually very gentle, but these meatheads were four years older than Dan and had no business ganging up on a nine-year-old.

It was a new year; Dan had hoped for a fresh start, and didn't want to cause a fight on the very first day of the school year, but he was still very, very grateful that Phil would so willingly protect him like that.

"You guys should leave." Phil was managing to maintain his pleasant demeanor and keep his composure even when he was being pushed to the edge with these jackasses bothering Dan like this. These were teenagers, Dan was just a kid and all alone in this except for him; Phil didn't want to fight, but he would if he needed to.

One of them –presumably the leader- smirked at the eleven-year-old, who held a calm but firm gaze. "Who's gonna make me?"

"I will if I have to."

Dan's eyes shot over to him; he looked scared but determined to carry through with what he said. Dan bit his lip and hoped these boys would go away before any actual fight ensued.

The leader of the gang moved around the table and smirked at Phil before pushing him off the bench onto the concrete. Dan flinched as he watched his friend fall to the ground, hearing the loud thud, and watched anxiously as he sort of expected Phil to fight back.

But he didn't. The boy rubbed the back of his head, wincing, but stayed down. He stared up at the bully blankly, and Dan almost wished he would grab one of those rocks and hit him, just do something to defend himself instead of letting the boy and his cronies just laugh at him. Dan buried his face in his hands, ashamed.

* * *

"Why didn't you fight them?" Dan groaned, halfheartedly punching his friend in the arm, the one that was still sore from hitting the ground. Phil winced and let Dan go on with his ranting. "I don't understand you. You fight so hard when it's over me, but when they start bullying you… you just let them! I don't get it; why won't you fight?" Dan through his clenched fists down at his sides in frustration.

When he felt it was safe to answer, Phil responded quietly, "I just want to protect you. I don't like making trouble unless I need to, and I only need to when bigger kids are hurting you. It's not right and I can't just let it happen."

Dan frowned and quietly accepted that as the best answer he was gonna get for now.

Dan didn't want to go home yet. He wanted to go back to Phil's house –which had become like a second home- where he'd be away from all the yelling and the screaming baby, and he and his best friend could spend hours up in the treehouse, just the two of them. It was starting to feel smaller, but they both fit inside with room to spare. They both secretly hoped to never quite outgrow it.

They waited together outside the school; Dan's grandmother would be picking him up any minute, and he'd told Phil he could go home already, but the older boy stayed put on the front stoop of the building. Dan smiled secretly. When the small car pulled up in front of them, he turned briefly to his friend with a shy smile; he was still supposed to be annoyed, wasn't he? "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya." Phil smiled back and waved goodbye, and Dan waved to him as he got into the back seat. They car pulled away, and they were apart until the next morning.

Phil went to stand up to start walking home, but a sudden hard pressure on his shoulder kept him in place. He looked up in surprise, swallowing hard when he saw the same boys from earlier. The leader –the one who'd pushed him off the bench- was smirking down at Phil, and Phil didn't like the glint in his eyes. He tried to stand back up, but was pushed to the ground, landing hard against the stairs. He winced and propped himself up on his elbows, staring frightfully up at the boys surrounding him.

"Listen, shitstain, here's the deal. You've been getting between us and that dweeb kid you hang out with far too often now. Now, I know you're too dumb to make any friends your own age, and I can only sympathize, but that there needs to stop, or my boys and I are gonna have to find a new target. Here, let us demonstrate."

Phil didn't have time to process what was being said before there was a punch to his face and a kick to his stomach. He keeled over on the grounded, balled up and in pain. He looked to the ringleader, Bret Newman, through wet eyes. Newman put his foot up on Phil's shoulder, not to hurt but enough to hold him down, to subdue him.

"Now, I have a proposition for you, and this can go one of three ways. One, you can join us. We all know you've got an urge for violence in there somewhere, from how quickly you turn to it to defend your little friend, and we could use that on our team. Two, you can learn to stay out of it and we'll leave you alone." He smirked and kicked Phil onto his back. "You can keep being all mother hen over this little prick, and we'll turn all our focus on you. We always went easy on him because he's so little, and wailing on a little kid isn't in good taste. You're a different story, though." He kicked Phil hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Phil gasped desperately for air, not responding to any of Newman's deals until he could breathe again. Once things settled down, nausea starting to kick in, Bret knelt down to his level, stroking Phil's cheek and making him incredibly uncomfortable. "So what do you say, huh? Do we have a deal?"

Taking the deal, even the lesser option wherein they'd both be beaten, meant leaving Dan to fend for himself. He couldn't and would never let himself to that to his best friend.

Phil held a defiant gleam in his eyes as he gathered up his energy to spit right in Newman's face.

Bret slowly reached a hand up to wipe the glob of saliva away, shaking his head. "I'll take that as a no, then."

Phil didn't know what happened, but things went black for a while. When he woke up it was dark out, and there was pain all over. He managed to fight through it, getting to his feet and very slowly stumbling home.

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_**A/N: Reviews = quicker updates!**_


	5. Chapter 5

Dan didn't know what was going on, and Phil wanted to keep it that way. As far as the younger boy knew, Bret and his gang had just backed off, and that was fine by him. He'd eat his bag lunch in peace with his best friend, sparing him a bright smile when he saw Phil just pushing his food around his tray. Phil would smile back, if only to keep him from suspicion.

Dan didn't seem to notice when Phil stopped inviting him to come over after school –at least, he never questioned it. They'd wait for Dan's grandmother to pick him up, and eventually they weren't even saying proper goodbyes anymore, just go their separate ways until whenever they would reconvene. They'd usually meet up after homework and an after school snack, but things were starting to feel different for both boys. Phil wanted to tell Dan about the arrangement between himself and Bret Newman, but he just couldn't burden his friend with that. He'd rather let it go on in silence.

Bret was growing more violent as the weeks went on. He used to have his little cronies involved in the after school beatings, too, but then one day Bret choked Phil unconscious. After that they stopped coming, probably seeing just how out of hand it was getting and not wanting to participate in case "Newman might actually kill the kid."

They weren't the only people to know about it and watched as it escalated –other students and even some teachers had witnessed the beatings before, but never did anything. They were scared of either Bret or George Newman.

George Newman, in short, held a lot of power in the community; he was also a notoriously violent alcoholic. And for that, despite everything, Phil felt bad for Bret.

* * *

The weather was getting colder, and the cuts and bruises were easy to hide. Phil sorely pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he padded down the street; it was dark by now and the crisp air bit at his nose and ears. He was so tired. It was nearing the end of the week and he just wanted to get home, bandage up today's lacerations and go to bed. Dan had a piano lesson with his grandfather today, so Phil could get away with heading to his room early without raising any eyebrows.

Dan was sitting outside the front door when he got there, springing to his feet and running over to hug Phil tightly. Phil winced as multiple bruises and other wounds were pressed down on, but he tried to hide the pain so Dan wouldn't catch on. "Don't you have piano today?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"I told my grandpa that I wasn't feeling well and was going to bed, and snuck out my window. I miss hanging out with you, and I just couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you."

Phil sighed; Dan was going to be in big trouble with his parents if they found out he snuck out, and they'd probably be worried if they went to check on him in his room only to find he was nowhere to be found. They'd probably figure out pretty quickly where he was; if Dan wasn't at home, he was more than likely to be found at Phil's house, most probably up in the treehouse. Phil still just wanted to go to bed, but he needed to make sure Dan got home safely.

"Come on, let's get you-"

"No. I wanna stay here, I'll call my mum and tell her that I snuck out and will accept whatever punishment I get when I get home, but I need to stay here tonight." Dan was gripping onto the sleeve of Phil's coat, and he stared at him, silent pleading with wet brown eyes.

Phil winced sympathetically. "They're fighting again?"

Dan nodded, sniffling and wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his hand-me-down jacket. "Yeah. They scream at each other and that starts the baby screaming and crying and it's just too much. I'm gonna ring my grandma and tell her that I'm here, and she can tell my parents when they aren't at each other's throats, but please let me stay…"

Phil bit his lip as he considered the situation. He didn't want Dan to get in any worse trouble than he was already in, but if things at home were that bad, he couldn't let him go back, either. "I'll… I'll ask my mum and call your grandma. You can probably stay with me in my room tonight; I'll lend you some clothes for school in the morning."

Dan shook his head. "I brought my clothes with me."

Phil laughed and nodded. "Okay, let's go in, then."

* * *

Dan was already set to be grounded when he got home, so this would be the last time they'd see each other outside of school for a week. Dan had spent about half of the evening sulking, but then they'd eaten dinner and he perked up a bit. They played video games and threw small hissy fits whenever the other boy would win, ate snacks until they were lethargic, and stayed up well past their bed times –a concept Dan vehemently protested anyway.

Dan got ready to sleep on the floor, spreading out a fluffy comforter to lay down on and bringing another blanket up to cover himself as he laid his head on one of Phil's spare pillows. He looked up to watch as Phil got himself settled, smiling a bit. "Thanks for letting me stay."

Phil leaned over the edge of the bed to look back down at Dan with a soft smile of his own. "You're welcome. Goodnight, Danny."

* * *

Phil snuck out himself after Dan had fallen asleep. He spared a glance back at Dan, fast asleep and ignorant. He smiled and stepped quietly out of the rooms, down the hall and the stairs and out the back door. The treehouse was somewhere he could be left in silence, and he was barely holding the tears back at this point.

Up inside, he finally allowed himself to curl up on the floor and break down. He cried all the tears that he had been holding back for weeks, all the bottled up physical and emotional pain. It was torture to not be able to defend himself while he was punched and kicked and even once choked until he passed out. He'd lost consciousness too many times to count by now, waking up on the pavement outside the school to just pick himself up and limp home.

Whatever Bret Newman was being put through by his father, he was taking it out on Phil; there was no other way to explain why he wanted to cause him so much pain. And the battering wasn't only physical: while he was beating the shit out of him, Bret would remind Phil that he was fat and stupid and had no friends besides Dan; he'd tell him that Dan even only hung around because he pitied him.

That was the one thing Phil didn't believe, was that Dan pitied him, but it got him thinking that maybe the younger boy only hung out with him was because he wanted to stay true to their pact. He tried to push that thought out of his mind whenever Dan would be especially close, but it always came back every time Dan left him alone again.

Phil told himself that it was stupid, that he was stupid for thinking that. But when it came right down to the bare bones of it, he couldn't come up with any reason that Dan would want to be friends with him. And that thought, and all the other nasty words said against him, broke him more than any punches or kicks ever could.

He lay there for several hours, crying himself to sleep and waking up with a headache. The sun was rising outside, and he had to get ready for another awful day.

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	6. Chapter 6

Dan had just thrown the closest thing to a tantrum he'd had since he was a small toddler. Normally a reserved and rather shy boy, he'd pulled a hissy fit and run out the door of his home. It was just going to be his grandmother's house, now; Dan's parents were getting divorced, his dad was moving in with his brother, fifty miles away, and his mother was moving in with a new boyfriend and taking Dan and his baby brother with her. The boyfriend –Dan heard his name was Thomas, but he didn't care to call him that or anything else. He lived just a couple miles away, but moving there would mean Dan would be changing schools. He fled the house in a rage.

Granted, moving with his mother wouldn't be as bad as with his father, if just for the fact that it wasn't nearly as far and either would mean he would be attending a different school, but he didn't want that anyway. A different school meant being away from Phil, his very best friend and just short of the center of Dan's world. And he was exactly who Dan was running off to see right now; Phil would know exactly what to say, to calm him down and cheer him up.

He didn't go for the front door, opting instead to just go around the house and climbing quickly up the rungs screwed into the tree trunk. The boys spent any time they could in "their" treehouse, and he hadn't spoken to Phil about this before arriving, but he knew he had to be up there. Dan needed guidance and comfort; he needed his friend.

He slipped inside to find Phil curled up in the corner with what looked to be his homework. Dan stared at one of the books for a moment, reading the title and still not understanding. Age advantage aside, Dan knew that Phil was probably smarter than him, but he only admired him more for it. He pushed some books and papers aside to sit next to his friend, nudging his shoulder. "Hi."

Phil started and pulled his ear buds out, smiling softly at Dan. "Hey, what brings you here?"

The tears in Dan's eyes had just about dried up, and he wiped away whatever was left on his cheek. He didn't let himself think about how he was sitting here with his best friend, in their sacred niche, and soon he wouldn't be seeing him every day like he was so used to. "My, um… My parents are getting divorced."

Phil's eyes widened and he set his work aside, wrapping his arms around Dan's shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Danny."

Dan let out a curt laugh; he almost couldn't believe Phil still called him that, but it was such an endearing name now that he couldn't bear to let it go. "Thanks, but that's not the worst of it. My mum already has a new boyfriend, and she's making us go live with him now. He only lives like ten miles away, but I'll have to be going to a different school…" The tears were building up again, and he felt so defeated. He laid his head against Phil's shoulder, blinking the wetness away. "I don't think I can handle not seeing you every day. I might go mad."

Phil hugged him against his side, nuzzling the top of his friend's head. "Me too… I don't think I'll ever be okay letting you go. We're best friends forever and kind of need each other."

"I definitely need you," Dan noted, sighing. "I think you can get on just fine without me."

Phil smirked, face and eyes sad. "You give me too much credit, Danny."

* * *

By the end of that weekend, Dan had all his belongings packed and ready to go. He slumped down onto a box of his video games, huffing. His father had left earlier that week without much more than a simple goodbye, and he'd met Thomas for the first time before he had to move into the man's house. He didn't like Thomas; he was nice and all, but he wasn't his dad and he was already trying to replace him. Maybe it would've been different if Dan's father was dead or something? It would be a little quick to be dating the new widow, but at least then he could have the excuse that Dan and Adrian needed a father figure in their lives, a role he would happily take on. But Dan had a father, an hour away, and even though he seemed to not want any part in his sons' lives anymore, Thomas wasn't him. He never would be.

Phil was across the tiny and nearly bare bedroom, taping a box closed. He'd been kind enough to volunteer his Sunday to helping the family pack, and Dan was grateful that he got to spend another day with his best friend –even under less than desirable circumstances.

"I think that's everything…" Phil sighed, way too invested in this but not minding in the slightest. His best friend was moving, and they weren't certain when the next time they'd see each other would be. Their parents were always busy with work or something else, and weekends were no good because Dan would be seeing his dad so much further away. Phil turned to Dan but kept his eyes on the floor, scared of what he had to say next as he heard the moving van pulling up outside the house. "I… I guess this is goodbye for now, then?"

Dan shook his head firmly and stood, moving over and hugging his friend tightly. "No; not goodbye. It's a… well, it is a goodbye, but not forever, right? We'll see each other again soon –I promise." He hugged him tight again, burying his face into Phil's shoulder and trying to keep the tears from falling; he was too old to cry like this, even though Phil was the one person he trusted to see him at his most vulnerable.

Phil squeezed him, only letting go when he heard Dan's mother calling her son downstairs.

* * *

Everything was soon in the van, and it was getting time to leave. Dan sat in the back of the trailer for a while, staring at his shoes. He wasn't ready to leave, but he didn't think he ever would be. He didn't want to leave his sworn best friend here alone, and he didn't want to go and try to make new friends because dammit he didn't need any other friends.

Phil was sitting a couple meters away on the front stoop of the house; once Dan and his mother and brother left, his grandma was driving Phil back to his house. They had already said goodbye to each other now, and Dan wanted to say a bunch of things before he left, but they got all jumbled up even still in his head. He figured these things couldn't be understood properly –though he certainly felt them, deep inside him- and were better left unsaid.

He caught the damp blue eyes a few times, and had to look back away.

"Come on, Dan, time to go."

Dan nodded silently and dragged himself to the car, getting into the seat and strapping himself in. He looked out the window as the car was pulling out of the driveway, moving van following behind; he watched his grandmother waving goodbye and watched Phil stay completely still on the steps as a heavy raincloud hovered over his head.

The car was nearly out of reach by the time Phil got up and started running behind it. Of course he was no match for the speed of the vehicle, but he caught Dan staring back at him, hand pressed firmly to the windshield. Phil reached out for his uselessly, arm collapsing at his side as the car and the van faded from sight.

He didn't remember it ever raining harder than it did that night –maybe he was imagining it, or just not used to braving the storm without his little buddy in tow, needing comfort and clinging to the older boy for dear life. It had never been so blindingly clear that Phil needed Dan as much as Dan needed Phil.

He didn't eat that night, and the hunger didn't bother him. He hardly even noticed.

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	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Trigger warning for self-harm**_

* * *

**... Three Months Later ...**

* * *

Bret Newman was incredibly diplomatic for a fourteen-year-old douchebag; he was violent but not necessarily vicious, cool and collected most of the time. He knew how to keep his composure even as he beat the shit out of a younger kid. Like father like son.

Phil just took it like he always did, and he still wished he could do something to actually help Bret. He knew with every hit that it was a blow that George Newman had brought down on his son. He'd seen Bret's own bruises, though less severe than his own, and he really did wish he could help even as the older boy had beaten him half to death a few times.

The verbal abuse was almost as bad. Phil knew his self-worth was rapidly declining with every taunt Bret would spit at him. Bret would take a crack at him for anything, and most things he said Phil had never even considered until Newman pointed them out. They were becoming all too real for him to ignore.

But those weren't even the parts that he minded –he could take the pain, whatever Bret inflicted on him, physical or emotional scars bourn quietly. What really got to him, what made him cry alone at night, was that no one seemed to care.

The students never said anything. They saw it happen, of course; Bret actively tried to keep it secluded and after school let out, but there were always the stray kids that passed by at really saw him having the shit beat out of him, but none of them ever said anything –and Phil had to figure it was because they were afraid Bret would lash out at them, too… or maybe he just wasn't worth their time saving.

The teachers never said anything. They saw the bruises from time to time, when Phil wasn't able to hide them very well. He saw the looks of sympathy they'd spare him when they noticed a particularly painful one, but no one addressed it. The old adage was apparently to let boys be boys, and this was what boys did. It was survival of the fittest and who were the adults to interfere, right?

His parents… he wasn't sure they even noticed. Phil knew he couldn't tell them about it, because that would only make things worse, and ultimately they couldn't really do anything about it. Phil had taken to retreating to his bedroom when his parents came home from work, and they never bothered him there. He wondered sometimes if they ever noticed he had locked himself away; he wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

His only relief was the hour he'd spend on the phone with his best friend, living so close but so far away. Everything else was starting to fade to darkness.

* * *

Dan wasn't making many new friends at his new school. He was well liked by most everyone –a welcome change- but he was still adjusting and not ready to actively make any friends just yet. His mother had tried to talk him into hanging out with some of his classmates after school. He'd go to the library instead and say he had when he got home. His mother was happy, and Dan was given more time to settle.

Thomas was nice enough, and his house was bigger than any Dan had lived in before. For the first time since his brother was born, Dan had his own bedroom again, which was good for the hour at night that he'd spend on the phone with Phil. He missed him so terribly, and an hour was never enough, but it was what Dan's mother had to limit it to.

They'd lie to spare one another. Dan would say that he was making new friends but never forgot that Phil was his very best friend, and that he was getting along with Thomas and almost wouldn't mind having him as a stepfather; he said that he liked the new house and the teachers were nice and his grades were improving –that one, with hours spent alone in the library over the last few weeks, was actually true.

Phil lied, too. He never told Dan about anything going on with Bret, and said he was making friends with students his own age, that he was still doing well in class and he was adjusting well to not having Dan by his side –though he always made sure to emphasize that he missed him terribly, and that he couldn't wait to finally see him. They had no idea when that would be; Phil hadn't seen Dan since the day he moved out.

Dan didn't fully believe everything he was being told, and though he reminded himself that Phil would never lie to him, at the end of every call he'd have to ask, "Are you sure you're alright?"

And Phil would fake a smile he knew couldn't be seen over the phone, but hoped it would make his voice sound lighter when he always answered, "Yeah, I'm sure."

Dan would nod, accepting and somewhat relieved to hear it. "Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

* * *

In five years, this was one of the two secrets he kept from Dan. The first was, of course, that Bret Newman was hurting him. The second: he was hurting himself, too.

It had never quite been a cry for attention, or even a cry for help. Between all but losing his best friend –his only friend- and being battered and berated pretty severely on a daily basis, it was becoming too much to handle without some sort of coping mechanism, and this was the only one that almost worked.

It started a month ago, with a few small slits made with the blade of an old pencil sharpener; they were no worse than paper cuts, the sting just as bad but somehow addicting. And over the next few weeks, it progressed, and rather rapidly. The same inconspicuous blade had come to slice through the fat on his stomach first, and when that was covered he moved onto his thighs, chest, and he was now working on his upper arms. He counted every single one; there were almost two hundred now.

It was getting more difficult to hide them, even from passive eyes. Deep down, Phil knew he wanted others to see them, to know he was hurting and maybe finally help him like he'd been needing so desperately.

He always went through the same routine after speaking to Dan, after remembering just how alone he was now that he could never really see him anymore. He'd go into the bathroom, fresh pyjamas coming in with him, his blade hidden in the small pile of clean clothes. He'd shower, washing quickly so he wouldn't seem to take too long. His blade was getting rusty but he didn't care, he'd drag the sharp edge across his thick flesh and wet the scalding water make it sting as it washed the blood clean down the drain. He never cut too deep, and let the bleeding stop before he got out and got dressed, going through the motions as always. He'd fall asleep with tears dripping down his face and hoping the wounds wouldn't reopen in the night.

* * *

Dan came home from school on Friday and was surprised to find Thomas's car in the driveway –he was never home this early. Curious, Dan went inside as usual, and found his mother's boyfriend in the lounge.

"Ah, there you are."

Dan nodded and set his schoolbag down. "Yeah, I'm here…! What are you doing home from work?"

"Well, I had a talk with your mum last night. She finally told me about how much you miss your friend, and how upset you've been about not being able to see him." He stepped over and rubbed Dan's shoulder. "So I figured the least I could do for my potential stepson is take you to go see him."

Dan beamed at the thought of finally seeing Phil again after three months. "But isn't my dad picking me up?" he stammered; he usually spent Friday through Sunday with his father at his new place.

"I already talked to him, and he said he can miss this one weekend with you. And your mum talked to Phil's parents and they said you could stay until Sunday."

Dan was literally grinning ear to ear. He was in shock and so, so happy and it almost felt too good to be true.

"Now, don't get used to it too much, kiddo, this isn't gonna happen too often. When you're older and can get yourself there, you can go see him all you want, but right now that's not easy to arrange. Promise you'll have fun while you're there?"

"Yes!" Dan squeaked a little louder than he'd meant to.

Thomas smiled. "Alright, go get in the car."

Dan had never run anywhere faster in his life. In a very short time, he'd be seeing his best friend again. For one short weekend, he thought, things could be back to normal.

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	8. Chapter 8

Phil finished up in the shower and further cleaned up a particularly bad slit in his forearm, near his wrist. He winced; he hadn't meant to cut so deep, but it was still bleeding. Sighing, Phil had no choice but to pull out a bandage and cover it up, hoping no one would notice it. All his long-sleeved pyjama shirts were in the wash, and he wore a jumper to bed. If anyone asked, he was feeling cold, and he was. Things had been different since he'd hesitantly moved the blade below his elbows, and he was starting to actually hope no one ever did find out. The sleeves came only halfway down his forearms; he didn't have to fear too much for his secret being revealed, but he still felt exposed, naked in full dress.

Dan hadn't called today, and when Phil had tried to call him, he didn't pick up. That hurt; he tried to not let it bother him, but that just wasn't going to happen. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it, worried that Dan was finally giving up on the likes of him. He couldn't blame him; Dan was at least a thousand times better than Phil was, and he was probably sick of being held back. He was moving on to new friends and a new, more mature life at ten years old.

He stepped out of the bathroom, jumping back when a pair of arms was thrown around his shoulders. He tried to suppress a hiss at the stinging pain and process who it was that was… "Danny!" He choked a bit as he didn't hesitate to hug his friend back, tight as he could and never wanting to let go again.

Dan buried his face into Phil's sore shoulder, not knowing what lay beneath the thin cotton, literally right under his nose. "I missed you so much!" He pulled away but was still holding onto his friend's arms like his life depended on it. "I'm staying the weekend! My parents and your parents and Thomas arranged it and I'm gonna be here until Sunday!"

Phil could play ecstatic for now, and he really was very excited to be hanging out with his best friend. But if there was one person Phil could absolutely not let know about what he'd been doing these past few weeks, it was Dan. Dan was too young, too innocent to be burdened with that kind of knowledge, and as much as Phil kind of hated it, Dan looked up to him. Dan sort of regarded Phil as this superhero that was invincible to anything and was always going to protect him from evils. That was a lot of pressure to put on a twelve-year-old, especially when Phil was really starting to see that there were things he just couldn't handle. As much as he wanted to be, he had no idea how he was supposed to be this great hero for Dan.

* * *

By Saturday afternoon, Dan had noticed that Phil was acting weird. He was wearing thin jackets despite the warmth of the house, tugging at the sleeves almost obsessively whenever he thought Dan wasn't looking. Dan caught him fidgeting more than once, and he hated how he looked so tense, but he couldn't bring himself to confront Phil about it. He was probably just being weird this weekend, and Dan might have even just been seeing things, or looking into it too deeply. Phil was fine.

Phil, in fact, was not fine at all –but he couldn't let Dan know that. The problem was that he'd grown so used to cutting that being unable to let out the pain was just making it all build up inside him. Sure, Bret wasn't here to wail on him or call him out for being the fat stupid baby that he was, but the words stuck like industrial strength glue.

He wasn't worthy of Dan's friendship; he wasn't worth the bright young boy's time or energy, especially not to only be weighed down by the shadows Phil was brooding in. Dan didn't deserve the pain like Phil did –that was what he told himself. He would suffer in silence; keep away from the blade as long as Dan was here, no matter how difficult it was. He would shield his only true friend from his pain.

"Hey Phil?" Dan piped from his spot across the treehouse. It was clear Saturday evening; Phil's mother was making dinner inside, and it would be ready soon. The boys were mostly keeping to themselves, Phil doing some homework and Dan reading comic books.

Phil looked up from his math work. Conversation with Dan was a welcome distraction. "Yeah?"

Dan shifted a bit, awkward. He wasn't sure how to address a rather complex question. "Do you know what love is?"

Phil froze up. Dan was ten years old, what was he doing asking about love? "Well…" he started slowly, putting his book down, "there are different kinds of love. There's love like between a married couple, or between siblings, or friends…Or the love for a pet?" He shrugged. "I don't really know what you're asking about."

"I, um, kind of meant between people who are dating."

"Um… well I've never dated anyone, but I'll take a crack at it." He took a long pause as he considered what that kind of love might be like. "I think it's when someone loves another person so much that they live for their happiness. When they'd protect them from anything, even if it put them in harm's way. When you'd give anything for them, no hesitation. When… When you picture your future, they're always there and part of it. You fantasize about marriage to them and wonder what your kids would look like. And… as long as they're happy, so are you."

Dan nodded, smiling softly. He tried to return to his comics, but he couldn't focus. "And what about love for a friend?"

"I… I guess it's kind of the same thing, but without marriage and kids and maybe to less of a degree. I don't know if you're supposed to want to die for a friend or not." Phil tried to return to his work, but Dan was persistent.

"Would you die for me, Phil?"

"Yeah." He had answered without thinking about what he was saying, and buried his bright blushing face in his textbook. "I guess you're supposed to want to die for your friend."

Dan got onto his knees and crawled over to Phil, gently taking the book away. He looked deep into wet eyes and winced sympathetically but didn't let it distract him. "I'd die for you, Phil. I hope you know that. And…" He cast his eyes downward. "I'm scared that you're not okay right now, which is really painful to watch, because I really look up to you. Please, Phil… promise me you're okay?"

Dan's eyes were so pleading that even if Phil didn't want to promise him already, he just had to. He couldn't take that sad tint to Dan's glow. "Yeah, Danny, I promise." He put on his best false smile and hoped it was enough to convince his young friend.

Dan smiled and reached out to ruffle Phil's hair, giggling quietly. It was enough to put him at ease, and he returned to his comic books to let Phil do his assignments. He didn't see how Phil tugged at his sleeves again, and they relaxed into a content silence until they were called down to eat.

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	9. Chapter 9

**... Four Years Later ...**

* * *

At thirteen, Dan was taking the bus to Phil's house every day. By fourteen he wasn't anymore.

They were still best friends, of course, but things were different. Dan had adjusted to his school and classmates, and was well-liked and even considerably popular. He was still his same self, awkward and shy, but he pushed the less desirable parts of himself aside to blend in just a bit better to his new friends. These new friends weren't exactly people he'd trust with his darkest secrets or his iPhone, but they were fun and not a terribly bad influence, and it was kind of nice to not be completely dependent on just one friend. He still missed him, though.

Dan did feel bad when he stopped going over so often. He knew that Phil had sort of retreated from his own peers and spent much of his time locked away in his bedroom. Dan would call whenever he could, and feel bad when he forgot because he was out with new friends. Sometimes Phil didn't pick up, anyway; Dan had only ever left a message once, when they hadn't spoken for a few days.

"Hey, it's Dan again. Can we talk? I really wanna come by your house sometime soon. I'm… kind of worried about you, I hope you're alright. Call me when you get the chance? I'll be waiting."

It would be two more weeks before they saw each other.

* * *

Dan had a girlfriend, a bitchy little thing named Jessica. She was a pain in the ass, annoying eye candy at best and Satan at her worst; Dan honestly didn't like her very much, but it would be pathetic for him to be fourteen and single. She'd sort of offered herself up to him. Dan wouldn't see her outside of school –ever- but in his group of friends she was the one hanging from his arm. "You really need to work out." Dan groaned.

But one weekend Jessica's parents were out of town, so naturally there was going to be a party. A light bulb went off in Dan's head and he called Phil as soon as he got home.

"My girlfriend's having a party at her house this weekend and you need to be there."

Phil had just finished up in the bathroom and lay sorely on his bed, tired but listening. "And why do I so have to go?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. He knew why, but Dan liked to talk, and questions got him talking without much having to be said in response.

"Because I know you, and you don't get out enough. You're my best friend and I want you to at least meet my other friends and Jessica."

"I don't know, Danny." He picked absently at one of the dozens of scabs crosshatching his arm. "I'm not exactly the party type."

"It would really mean a lot to me."

Phil sighed; Dan knew that was exactly how to get him to do anything he wanted. One simple phrase and Phil was putty. It probably didn't help that when it came down to it, Phil would do pretty much anything for Dan. "Okay, I'll be there."

Dan grinned and hoped that Phil could tell how excited he was. "You won't regret it, I promise!"

* * *

Social situations were not Phil's forte. He really did use to be a very open, free-spirited person back before Bret Newman happened. Bret was gone now, but the damage was done and probably permanent. Phil had maybe two or three hundred physical scars –littering his arms, legs, torso and stomach- that would never heal; the emotional toll had been even worse.

The room was dark and hot with sweaty dancing bodies –too hot for Phil to be reasonably wearing a jacket, but he had to cover up. Dan had left him in a corner for a moment while he went to get some drinks for the two of them.

Dan had been nice enough not to force Phil to try to mingle with the crowd. He knew that his friend was not comfortable here, and felt bad until he reminded himself that this was for Phil's own good. Dan had introduced him to his friends, his girlfriend was nowhere to be found, and he was graciously spending most of the evening so far with the best friend he'd dragged along.

Dan returned with two bottles and handed one to his friend, who took it with a shaking hand. Even in the near blackness of the room, he didn't fail to notice. "You alright?" he asked, hoping he could get an honest answer but accepting that it wouldn't happen.

Just as expected, "Yeah, fine." Phil took a quick swig of his beer and pulled at the sleeve that had ridden up his wrist. There weren't many scars to be seen so close to his hand, but they were enough to notice.

Dan frowned. "You have a shirt under that, don't you?" he asked over the blaring music.

Phil nodded and swallowed. "Yeah, why?"

"You're sweating, take it off."

Phil flinched but kept his composure, kept up the act that everything was normal. "It's not hot, I'm fine."

"It's a bajillion degrees in here, take the jacket off." Dan reached for the zipper to tug it down.

Phil lightly but firmly swatted his hand away, starting to really shake now. "Danny, no."

Dan winced at the public use of the nickname. He had always been fine with Phil calling him Danny when they were alone, or around people they trusted or didn't know, but this was a "popular kid party," and Dan wanted to keep fitting in as much as he could. He didn't appreciate Phil calling him by his childhood nickname around these people, especially when it was something his girlfriend called him on occasion. He didn't address it directly, but it made him impatient. "Come on, this is ridiculous."

"To you, maybe. I want to keep it on, now leave me alone!"

Dan glared at him for a moment, and couldn't understand why Phil was acting this way, especially in public. He got that social situations were uncomfortable for the older boy, but that didn't make this make any sense. He reached for the zipper again and managed to tug it down.

Phil freaked out, white spots sparking across his eyes as he splashed his beer in Dan's face and ran, squirming between people and sprinting out the front door of the house. He didn't know where he was, didn't know where he was going, and he didn't care.

* * *

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	10. Chapter 10

"Godammit, Phil!" Dan ran after him, chasing down the street. It was a busy road and he was worried that one of them might be hit by a car and injured or worse. He had to catch up with his friend before that could happen. "Phil!"

Phil was still running, not really seeing anything around him or caring about the cars speeding past. He had to get away, he couldn't do this, he couldn't let Dan see him break down. Yeah, Dan was now going to see him be a coward and run away, but it had to be better than letting his best friend see him cry.

He tripped and fell to the trail of grass lining the street. Fresh wounds were torn open under his jacket and by the time Dan got to him, he could feel the blood already seeping through his shirt. Dan was trying to help him back up, and Phil knew he looked pretty pathetic as he tried to lean away, tears streaking down his blotchy red cheeks. But then Dan's hands were on his shoulders, surprisingly gentle.

Dan knelt down to be at his fallen friend's level, placing his hand on Phil's cheek and carefully turning his head to face him. He didn't seem to be in pain, but the tears kept falling. Dan had never felt worse over as simple an action as pulling down the zipper of Phil's jacket. "I'm sorry," he lamented, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close. He didn't know what he'd done, but he was very apparently wrong to have done it; he just wished he understood.

"Can you stand up?" he asked, worried Phil might have twisted his ankle or something in the fall. Phil nodded weakly and Dan helped him to his feet. Dan nodded curtly and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Hang tight, I'll call my mum for a ride."

* * *

Dan's mother was kind enough to take them back to Phil's place, and told Dan he could stay the night. She didn't know her son was at an unsupervised party, and Dan planned to keep it that way.

The squeezed themselves into the treehouse. It wasn't too small for comfort, but it was much tighter a space than when they were small children. Dan knew this might be one of their last times up here, and he tried to cherish every moment of it. There were other things to address, though; Phil was sitting across from him, eyes downcast to his lap where he was twiddling his thumbs and trying to discreetly pull at his sleeves. Dan bit his lip and tried to start the necessary conversation as gently as he could.

"Phil, what happened back there?" Dan tried and failed to keep the sadness out of his voice. He'd been worried about his friend –his best friend- for so long and this was just the tipping point. He was afraid of how it could get worse from here.

Phil was shaking with effort to control his sobbing –he was hanging on by a thread and still trying so hard to keep it hidden. He knew deep down that Dan would find out tonight, be disgusted with him and leave, never wanting to speak to Phil again. That hurt, and that pain was what had been keeping him in secrecy for years now. Everything was crumbling now, and he started to wish he could just drop dead before it fell apart completely.

He spared a glance up to meet Dan's eyes; he swore he could see the boy's very soul pleading with him for honesty. He'd never seen Dan like that before, never seen anyone look like that before. He realized that right now he was putting Dan through pain, and once he finally told him what was going on, he'd be free of that. It would hurt Phil to never see or speak to Dan after the secret was revealed, but the importance he placed on his own happiness could and would never hold a candle to that which he placed on Dan's. Dan would be free soon of the burden of not knowing, and that would be enough for the both of them.

Phil peeled off his jacket and let it fall to the floor; he went for broke and took his shirt off straight after. There were still more scars carved into his thighs and lower on his hips than his jeans would show, but he already felt completely naked and more exposed than his worst nightmares could've conceived. He had to close his eyes; he couldn't bear to see the look of repulsion he knew had to be on Dan's face.

There was no such look. Dan did feel disgusted, but not with Phil, or the hundreds of white and red lines tainting his pale flesh, but with himself for not noticing it sooner. Tears were building in his eyes, stomach lurching and throat closing up. He thought he might vomit, but he didn't. He felt heartbroken; how long had Phil been in so much pain that he was taking it out on his own body.

"Oh god…" he choked out finally. Phil cautiously peeked with one eye to see tears in Dan's eyes and what looked on heartbreak on his face. He rushed to put his shirt back on, but Dan reached out a hand to stop him. They were both in silence.

Dan slowly moved closer until he was sitting right in front of his friend. He held out a shaking hand to very, very gently run his trembling fingertips over some of the older scars. There was no telling how old they were, and Dan's stomach gave another heave at the thought. He was just barely keeping the bile down. "I'm so sorry…" he sighed, voice cracking.

Phil shook his head. "No, don't be. I-I kept it from you, I kept it from everyone-"

"For how long?"

"What?"

"How long have you been doing this to yourself."

Phil had to think for a moment. It was so long, and had become so routing for him, he was starting to forget where and when it all began. He remembered Bret, and how it was early on in the times of the beatings, and how Dan had already been gone, but not for long. "I… I was twelve. Twelve, I think."

Dan sobbed. Phil was sixteen now, and twelve was so young, and it had gone on for so long. When Dan had worried about Phil, he'd never even considered that this might be the problem. He had always seen Phil as this hero type, the boy who'd braved the bullies on the playground and gotten him his stuffed toy back. He'd never thought Phil was anything but the strongest person he'd ever known.

This did not change any of that.

Dan moved a bit closer and put his hand under Phil's chin, pulling his head up to look at him before moving to rest his fingers on his cheek. "Before I do this, I want to make one thing clear: I'm not doing this because I feel sorry for you. I don't feel sorry for you- I mean, let me explain." He looked Phil dead in the eyes, reaching to cup his face in both hands, stroking a thumb over a too prominent cheekbone. "I'm sorry -so sorry- that you feel like you needed, still need, to do this, and that you are going through some horrible things right now. I'm sorry I never noticed any of it and was never able to help you, because I've been so fucking selfish and never saw past my own problems long enough to see you were struggling, too. But, that said, I don't pity you. I know you, Phil. I know you're still so strong, stronger than I'll ever be. Maybe…" He shifted a bit. "Maybe you just need something to remind you of that strength."

Phil didn't know how to respond, but he didn't have the chance to as Dan's lips were pressed to his.

He didn't kiss back at first, but Dan's lips led the way. It was slow but passionate and so full of love, and Phil felt himself lulled into it. This felt so right, kissing Dan –it was maybe the first thing to really make him happy in years. He was soaring. A spark set off in his mind and in his heart, and for the first time since he was a child, Phil could see himself happy -especially with Dan at his side.

The kiss went on for a long moment, until they had to pull away to breathe, air sucked out of their lungs by all the affection and passion they had put into it. Dan's lips were swollen and wet, and he was in bliss. He shook his head, smiling bright and completely over the moon. He'd never felt anything like that before. "Why'd you hesitate?" he laughed breathlessly.

"I promised you I wasn't going to kiss you again," Phil mused with a tight-lipped but genuine smile.

Dan laughed and playfully hit his shoulder, not letting go of his arm and appreciate the feel in his grip. He couldn't believe that. "Were you really going to hold to a promise you made nine years ago?"

Phil smiled fondly and took Dan's free hand in his own, staring down at the fingers as he carefully laced them together. He felt almost like this was a dream and it would all come crashing down around him any minute. He looked into Dan's eyes to see nothing but love that must have been reflected in his own. "We kept one, didn't we?"

Dan grinned and let go of Phil's arm to fix his fringe, hiding his blushing face. The blood oath; they'd sworn to be best friends until the very end. He leaned in, smirking and gently squeezing Phil's hand. "I think we technically broke that promise tonight. Best friends don't do this."

He kissed him again. There was no hesitation on Phil's part this time, their hands never pulled apart and only gripped each other tighter as the other hand explored a willing body; the night was lost in a haze of love.

* * *

_**A/N: Reviews = quicker updates!**_


	11. Chapter 11

Dan didn't ask about why Phil had been hurting himself. He could only imagine how difficult it was for his friend –new boyfriend- to reveal years' worth of scars, he didn't want to overwhelm him with too many questions as to what had brought it on. He figured Phil would tell him what he was willing to disclose when he was ready to. In the meantime, Dan would be there, silently vowing to never take Phil's love and kindness for granted again.

They didn't discuss the cause of the effect, and it would be months before they did.

After telling Dan about it, Phil finally worked up the strength –with Dan's encouragement- to tell his parents about his secret. They'd been shocked and ashamed of themselves for not piecing it together, and they wanted to be there for their son, but the truth had made things so tense in the household that Phil decided to leave. He was welcomed into Dan's home and family with open arms –they knew from just about the beginning how his relationship with Dan had progressed. He moved in and shared Dan's room and bed, which was nice.

Dan didn't make Phil stop cutting. They'd talked about it a bit more, just so Dan could better understand, and he knew that it wasn't something that his boyfriend was going to be able to just give up. He just gently insisted he start seeing a counselor to help him heal, and that if Phil ever managed to resist or had to give in to the urge, Dan wanted him to come to him. He promised he'd always be there.

Phil was going to therapy twice a week, and the urge to hurt himself was becoming weaker and weaker. Every now and then he'd slip up, but Dan would remind him it was just a road bump –it might slow him down for a moment, but he could get right back going in no time. And it helped; it really did. And for once, Phil wasn't worried about having to be strong for Dan, because Dan himself was strong enough to carry both of them awhile.

* * *

Dan's brother was at their dad's house, and his mother and stepfather had gone to visit Thomas's family. Dan had stayed behind with Phil, and the two had the house to themselves for pretty much the entire weekend; and they were going to take advantage of it, but not in the way two romantically involved hormonal teenagers usually might.

It was a particularly lazy Saturday evening. Dan yawned and dropped a piece of popcorn into his mouth, running a hand over his boyfriend's shoulder. He hadn't straightened his hair, Phil was still wearing his glasses, they were both in pyjamas and perfectly happy as they lay in each other's arms, sprawled out on the sofa. A rather violent anime was on, but neither of them was really paying attention. Dan brought a hand up to gently stroke Phil's hair, recently dyed black and Dan liked it.

"Dan?"

The boy hummed an acknowledgement, too lazy to form words.

"I think I love you."

Dan smirked and tried to hide how he was blushing terribly as his heart soared at the little declaration. Phil's head was resting on his chest, and he hadn't looked up, but Dan was still flustered and worried he might see him as such. "You think you love me?"

There was a very brief pause as Phil took a second to consider. He shook his head. "I know I do."

"Like, in a best friend kind of way-?"

"No, Danny." Phil sat up on the sofa, looking at Dan, his eyes set. He smiled softly at his boyfriend's beet red face. "I bullshitted that answer, you know."

Dan laughed and swatted him with a throw pillow. "My whole life is a lie! I don't know what's real anymore!" He continued to hit him with the pillow, but Phil fought back with his own. They went on like that, whacking and laughing, until they managed to simultaneously fall sideways off the sofa. Breathless and giggling and upside down, their lips connected. Dan was the first to pull away. "I love you, too."

* * *

They were getting ready for bed when Dan once more got glimpse of the hundreds of crisscrossing lines littering Phil's skin. Most of them were old and faded, but he saw the newer ones that were still scabbed over; Phil's most recent relapse had been almost two weeks ago -but he was healing, and Dan was so, so proud.

"Dan?" Phil had caught him staring and felt self-conscious, quickly pulling a fresh tee on to cover himself.

Dan hadn't even noticed he'd been staring. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, looking anywhere now but at Phil.

"No, um… I actually wanted to talk about… that." Phil sat next to Dan on the bed, but he couldn't meet his eyes. "I figured it was time to tell you about what, uh, started all that."

Dan was all ears, and he moved just a bit closer, placing a hand over his boyfriend's; Phil was shaking terribly. Dan didn't want him to talk about it if he really wasn't comfortable doing so, but he could tell that Phil wanted to, but would just need a little encouragement and coaxing. "Go on, babe. I'm here, you're okay." He kept his voice soft and smooth, trying to keep his lover calm. This was a fragile moment for Phil and he really didn't want him to break down.

"So, you know how Bret Newman and his gang used to bother you all the time?" At Dan's nod, he continued. "Well, that day they cornered me after school and told me I could either join them or become their new target. I… I could never hurt you, Dan, even then when I was still really scared. But I spat in Newman's face and from then on, I was his p-punching bag."

Dan flinched. "Is… Is that why you-"

"Stopped hanging out after school? Yeah. It… It eventually got really bad, and everyone but Newman dropped out of the beatings when he choked me. A lot of people could tell what was going on, but nobody did or said anything ever. And the verbal assaults were just as bad as the physical ones. He tell me how fat and stupid I was, how I couldn't make friends with my own classmates because everyone thought I was weird, and that… even you only hung out with me out of pity. What's worse is I believed him. I believed every word of it."

"Baby-"

"No, I… I need to do this." He heaved a deep breath and let it out as he went on. "And so I started hurting myself. At first I was really hoping that someone would notice that I was in pain, but no one ever did. It got bad enough then that I didn't want them to see, because I'd only feel ashamed. And… that's it, I guess. The rest you kind of know."

Dan tried to keep the tears back as he pulled Phil into his arms, holding him tightly as if the squeeze would take all the pain away. "I'm so sorry…"

"I'm… really tired, Dan…"

Dan nodded, understanding, rubbing his shoulder. "You sleep, babe. I'll be back soon." He helped Phil get settled into bed and moved to the door. "I'll be back soon, okay?" He had some business with Bret Newman.

* * *

Dan took a cab to the Newman household and marched straight up to the front door. He wasn't prepared with anything but his fists and blinding rage against one of the occupants. Whenever his reasoning tried to take over, all Dan could think about was the hundreds of scars marring his perfect boyfriend's body, and the vengeful side of his brain took hold again.

Bret answered the door and was immediately met with a hard punch to the face.

* * *

Phil couldn't sleep. He'd been tossing and turning in bed for a good ten minutes, waiting for Dan to return. "Danny?" he called out, moving to sit up and go to look for him. It wasn't like him to be gone so long. Maybe he'd just stepped outside or something. Phil padded out into the hall.

* * *

Dan had dodged a bullet –literally.

He hadn't known the Newmans owned a perfectly legal handgun, but after twenty minutes of rolling around on the ground and punching and kicking the shit out of one another, Bret had landed one particularly hard blow and ran inside to get it. He came back out and aimed at the boy on the ground, but had missed when Dan rolled over and away.

Dan looked up just as Bret was aiming again. This had been a terrible, stupid mistake. Yes, he wanted to get revenge, but now he would never see his Phil again; he'd never be able to hold or kiss or tell him he loved him, and he didn't want to even think of how Phil would react. Would he hate him for it? Mourn him far too long? Would he… oh god, he could relapse or worse, and Dan would be helpless to stop him then. He may have just ended Phil's life.

He tried to crawl away, shouting out proclamations of defeat in a desperate attempt to stop Bret from firing at him again. He tried to get up, but his legs seemed paralyzed in his panic and he fell right back to the grass. He turned to meet the eyes of his inevitable killer before squeezing his own shut.

He heard the deafening bang of the gun being shot, and expected pain or immediate death, but neither came.

* * *

_**A/N: Reviews = quicker updates! Almost the end, guys!**_


	12. Chapter 12

Dan heard a horrible pained yelp and his eyelids flew open again, landing on the dark damp grass beneath him. He wasn't dead; why wasn't he dead? There was no way Newman would miss a second time, he was a still target and no more than ten feet away. There wasn't a new scratch on him. He heard a loud thud; he looked up to see what had happened and, in that moment, he would've given anything to have been hit by that bullet.

"Phil…" Dan got to his feet as quickly as he could and rushed on his hands and knees to the young man lying limp on the ground. He reached out with violently trembling hands as tears streamed down his face. He tried to hold back but he couldn't; his whole world was crumbling around him. Space was a black hole engulfing him, and at the very center was the man he loved, on the ground and bleeding through his shirt. The bullet had been fired into his chest, near the lower center of his torso.

"It was a warning shot, I… I swear!" And with that said, Bret ran back into his house with the gun, closing and locking the door behind him.

Dan suddenly felt a rush of real panic flood over him. "You can't just leave him here!"

"Dan…" Phil's voice cracked as he was struggling to breathe, air coming in and out in short gasps and pants. He wasn't in pain, really; there was no time for his brain to register that. He was numb, nerves dead as he lay fighting to stay alive, battling for every second of his life now. He stared up at Dan through the tears in his eyes. "Don't… Don't cry, Danny…"

Dan tentatively pulled him closer, laying Phil's head in his lap where he sat cross-legged on the ground. He stroked his boyfriend's hair back over and over with one hand as he pulled his phone out with the other, ready to call for an ambulance.

"Don't…"

Dan looked at him dumbfounded. "Baby, I need to call for help. You're-" He swallowed hard, another rush of tears coming on. "You're gonna die if I don't."

"It's okay, Danny. I…" Phil had to take a moment before he continued, breathing only growing more and more difficult and blood still pulsating from the wound in his chest. He could feel time slipping away like sand between his fingers, and all that was left to do now was to make sure Dan would be okay. "I love you. I always will, please… please remember that."

Dan nodded quickly, leaning down to kiss Phil's forehead, hard and desperate for his touch. "I will, and you'll be able to remind me tomorrow and the next day and every day after that, because you're gonna be okay. I-I swear it, Phil, you're gonna be alright." He was trying to convince his boyfriend and himself before he broke down in sobs. This couldn't be happening; this couldn't be happening…

Even in the darkness of the night, Dan could see the light fading from Phil's eyes. He knew he didn't have much time unless he got him help that second. He hastily pulled his t-shirt up over his head and carefully tugged Phil's up enough to reveal the bullet wound. It looked so unimpressive, so small and clean that it was really difficult to believe it was killing the young man from the inside out. Dan wanted to vomit at the thought, but he persisted, pressing his shirt down to block the blood loss and pulling his phone back out of his pocket. Phil was too weak to protest by this point.

Ten minutes, they'd said. Dan looked down at Phil –face deathly pale and tiny puffs of air slipping in and out of his lips, eyes dull and soft as heavy lids drooped over them. Try as he might, he couldn't convince himself that the love of his life would last that long.

Dan decided all he could do now was try to enjoy these last few minutes. He lay down next to his lover in the grass. The air was warm but they both felt cold as ice. Dan reached out a trembling hand to stroke the pale face. "I could look at you forever and never want to look away," he mumbled between quiet sobs. He listened intently for sirens, but all was quiet.

Phil spared him a small smile; fresh blood leaked between his teeth. "This is… what I'd be so afraid of…"

"Don't be scared, baby," Dan urged softly. He was barely hanging on himself, watching his best friend and so much more, bleeding out on the pristine lawn of the enemy who'd already hurt him so much before. Dan silently hoped the blood would never leave this ground, stay as a constant reminder that Bret Newman was nothing less than a murderer.

"I'm not scared to die, Dan… Ever… Ever since I met you, I was so w-worried I would ruin things between us, somehow… And now that- that we fell in love, I don't… I don't want to live to ruin a perfect thing."

Dan let out another sobbed and cautiously wrapped his arms around Phil's shoulders, pulling him in close. Blood seeped into his own shirt. "It could have stayed perfect."

Phil shook his head with what little energy he had left. "No, Dan, we… we've always been s-soul mates, but I-I guess never like this… God wouldn't have taken it away so quickly-"

"There is no God," Dan spat bitterly, holding him tighter, closer. He didn't want Phil to see just how many teardrops were making their way down his face, but they kept dripping into his hair.

Phil didn't comment on that; he had no strength left to. A sudden spark went off in his mind and he managed a small, sick smile. "I… I can die happy here now, Danny," he breathed out, voice weak and barely above a whisper into Dan's chest. "I… I only ever wanted to- to be your hero. Ever since that day we met on the playground… I only wanted to protect you. And- And now I… I have."

Dan was shaking terribly now. "The ambulance will be here soon, baby. Please, please don't- don't let go yet. Please hang on…"

He felt Phil smile against him and heard him mumble what sounded much like an "I love you." One more breath rattled from his lungs, and he went still in Dan's arms.

Dan's heart clenched painfully in his chest, and arms instinctively squeezed the lifeless body and holding on for dear life. He pressed his lips to the top of his head. "H-Hero…" he sobbed quietly. He heard sirens approaching and tried not to shake too terribly. "My hero…"

Phil had kept his promise; he'd lived –and died- for Dan. And Dan would soon return the favor.

* * *

_**A/N: And that's the end. Thank you all so much for reading, hopes it's been a good ride! Don't forget to review! Expect my next work soon. xx**_


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